Under a Different Moon
by sablize
Summary: There are two sides to every coin, after all.  This side is just a little different. AU after 2x07. **on hiatus until further notice**
1. Prologue

**Title: **Under A Different Moon: Prologue (0/?)

**Spoilers:** Nothing except vague references to 2.09, 2.10, and 2.12

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing!

**Author's Notes: **Short, random prologue. Doing this under the prompt 'What if Damon and Rose met under different circumstances?' Will be Damon/Rose centric, with some Stelena and some Delena undertones, if you squint. It's definitely gonna be long, and chapters will probably be posted Thursdays and Sundays. I cut it off after 2.07, but Elena does not get kidnapped. Enjoy(:

Time, by its very nature, is complex. It drapes its gossamer strands over people, places, through the pages of our history books and the words of our future. One shift spawns universes and galaxies; a poke here, a pinch there, and civilizations are toppled, stars erupt, and gods crumble at the feet of their creators. It runs not in lines, not simply from past to present to future, but back and forth as it weaves the fabric of the universe.

Time is strong. Time is powerful. Time is delicate.

Those who live well beyond death wear clothes and skin of Time as if it clings to their very essence. It's not surprising to learn of one—just one, for the time being, though there are many others—who has timelines spreading like pathways in front of her. _You_ know what happens in one (love, ruin, death), but what of the other?

There are two sides to every coin, after all.


	2. Chapter 1

**Title: **Under a Different Moon: Chapter 1 (1/?)

**Spoilers:** The end of 2.08

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing!

**Author's Notes: **First chapter, finally! It takes place after the masquerade ball, where Elena is home and did not get kidnapped. Hope you like.

They'd been sitting in the parking lot for the better part of three hours when Rose suddenly said, "I'm going in for a drink."

"Are you insane?" Trevor asked as she opened the door. "It's still daylight!"

She stepped into shade, conveniently placed. "I'll keep to the shadows. I'm bored as hell in here."

Trevor sighed. "Fine."

"Text me if one of them comes in," she said, waving her phone at him. Then she closed the door and, careful not to step into the sunlight, walked into the Mystic Grill.

It wasn't very crowded. She eyed the bar for a second, but slid into a chair at an empty table instead and ordered tea. She fiddled with her phone until her hot water arrived; plopping a tea bag in, she then searched her jacket pocket for a book—_A Tale of Two Cities_—and started to read, trying to calm herself. She wouldn't dare voice it, but she was nervous as hell.

A few hours and a few texts from Trevor later, her phone again vibrated on the tabletop. She marked her page, picked it up, and read: _One of them just pulled in, be prepared_.

—

Damon Salvatore checked his phone; it was just a few minutes after eleven thirty. He needed a drink but he wasn't sure he could see his brother after what just happened. _Coward_, he thought as he yanked open the door to the Grill.

It had been so easy. She trusted him, even though she was wary of taking off her necklace, but she did eventually. Then he got it off his chest.

He told Elena Gilbert he loved her.

And then he made her forget.

He wished he could forget, too.

He was gliding past the tables on the way to the bar when he felt eyes on him. He managed to shove down his disconcerted feelings until he sat down; then, he turned around and met the piercing green eyes gazing at him from across the restaurant. The woman looked down hastily at what seemed to be her phone—he could see the blue glow—and back up, as if comparing something. Damon turned away, confused and a little apprehensive.

A few seconds later, the door to the Grill opened again. He turned to find the woman leaving. She caught his eye again, tilting her head as if to say _Are you coming or not?_

He followed her out. He was never one to resist a mystery.

**A/N:** I don't understand why this is so short. I swear it was longer grrrr. Hope you liked it anyways, I'll post again on Thursday(:


	3. Chapter 2

**Title: **Under a Different Moon: Chapter 2 (2/?)

**Spoilers:** None

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing!

**Author's Notes: **Okay, second chapter. Still a little short, sorry about that. Happy reading(:

She was lingering outside the doorway, eyes downcast. When she saw him, though, she perked up instantly, pushing off the wall she was leaning against.

"So which one are you?" She was British, by the sound of it.

Damon really didn't want to deal with anyone at that particular moment, so he threw out a curt, "_What_?"

"You're a Salvatore, right? Which one?"

"Damon," he replied, confusion crawling onto his features. He turned to face her completely, folding his arms. "May I ask who's calling?"

She rolled her eyes, but didn't answer the question. "I heard you have a moonstone. _The_ moonstone. That true?"

In a flash of vampire speed, he was pressing her against the wall and growling, "I don't know who you are, or why you want the moonstone—which I _don't_ have, by the way—but I highly suggest you leave it and get out of this town."

A few seconds later, all the air wooshed out of his chest as she threw him to the ground.

"I'm trying to play nice," she said, glaring at him, "so if you gave me some time to explain…" One eyebrow lifted, and her hand extended to help him up.

He didn't take it, but he sighed, pushed himself up, and said, "Come on, then."

"Hold on," she said quickly as he started moving for his car. "I've got a friend, too, in that car back there." She pointed.

Damon sighed again. "Follow me, then. And you never did mention your name."

She flashed him a smile. "Rose."

—

The first thing Damon did when he got in his car was call his brother.

"What's wrong? Is it Elena?"

Damon resisted sighing again; he had _not_ wanted to hear that name. "Of course not, brother. Can't I call you unless the world's about to end?"

Stefan was silent on the other end, before saying hesitantly, "Okay."

"Lucky for you," Damon said, glancing in the rearview mirror at the black car gliding behind him, "there _is_ a problem."

"Wait, you're bringing them _here_?" asked Stefan when Damon was done explaining.

"Well, what do you want me to do? The girl—Rose, whatever—practically threw me on the ground, so she's got to be powerful, and old. I'd guess her friend is too."

"Originals?"

"Hope not," Damon said darkly. He ended the call, tension bubbling in his stomach.

Stefan let them inside the house a few minutes later, eyes wary as Rose and her friend walked past him, straight into the living room. Damon followed in their wake, looking troubled.

"First chance we get," he whispered, "we put a stake through their hearts."

Stefan eyed the pair and nodded once.


	4. Chapter 3

**Title: **Under a Different Moon (3/?)

**Spoilers:** Slightly for 1.08, then some for 2.08 and 2.09

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing!

**Author's Notes:** Slight infodump chapter (unfortunately, the next few will be the same way as well). And I realize now that it seems to be following the show thus far, but I promise you that once it hits around chapter 7 or so I'll start having my own plot, and then things will get _very_ interesting(; Thanks as always to my wonderful reviewers, I'm glad you're all enjoying this so far even though not much is really happening. Hope you like this chapter(:

"You must be Stefan, then," Rose said from her place beside her friend as the brothers sat down opposite.

He didn't bother to deny it. "How do you know so much about us?"

"When you lived as long as Trevor and I have, you know a lot of people," she replied, shifting slightly under Damon's intense gaze. "Plus, my friend Lexi tried to set me up with you, quite a few years back." If she saw the suddenly guilty looks on the brothers' faces, she didn't let on.

"So," Rose began after a slightly awkward silence. "The moonstone. Do you have it?"

"Well, we did," said Stefan. Damon cast him a warning glare. "But it's gone now, locked up."

Rose turned to Trevor apologetically. He, however, looked angry. Standing up, he said menacingly, "That's a shame, because we really do need it. If you could _un_lock it for us, that would be fantastic."

Damon stood up, too, taking to the threat immediately. Rose laid a hand on Trevor's arm and tugged him down; Stefan did the same with Damon. The tension in the air was tangible now.

Stefan attempted to relieve it. "Why do you need the moonstone?"

Trevor was still glaring at Damon, so Rose filled in, "We want it in exchange for our freedom. We've been running for a long time, and we were hoping the moonstone could buy us a pardon."

"Who are you running from?"

"Klaus," Trevor said, Damon having long since dropped his gaze. "Rose and I have been on the run for the past five hundred years. We want it to end."

"Klaus?" Stefan repeated, sharing a look with his brother, who shrugged slightly. Rose nodded. Stefan continued, leaning forward, arms on his knees, "How much to you two know about Klaus?"

"An awful lot," Trevor replied. "More than we'd like."

"All thanks to Katerina Petrova," Rose said bitterly. "But of course," she added, "you _are_ the Salvatore brothers. You know Katerina well; she turned you."

"What did you have to do with her?" Stefan asked.

"I was the one who turned her," she replied. Her eyes, previously fixed on the floor in front of her, flitted up to meet Damon's, returning his intense stare from before. He fidgeted uncomfortably under the agelessness in her gaze and looked away.

"So, you know a lot about Klaus?" Stefan repeated after a few seconds of tense silence. "Could you tell us?"

"In exchange for _what_?" Trevor asked.

Damon shrugged unconcernedly. "The moonstone? Protection from Klaus?"

Trevor rolled his eyes, clearly disbelieving.

Stefan stepped in. "How about a place to stay for tonight? Or a while. You could stop running." Damon shot him a look that clearly said _The hell are you doing?_, but Stefan ignored it.

Trevor looked like he wanted to decline. Rose, however, said, "Well, sunrise _is_ in a few hours, and we haven't got anywhere else to go. So, um… yeah." Her eyes were sad and a little lost, her smile grateful. "Thank you," she added in earnest.

Stefan smiled reassuringly back. Then, he stood, and said, "We'll talk in the morning; there's someone else who needs to hear this. Damon, why don't you show them a room." He left them to it, pulling his cell phone out, presumably to call Elena. Damon stood and led the way upstairs, trying not to be too annoyed that he'd been left caring for their guests. Trevor chose the first unoccupied room and Rose went into the empty one directly to the right.

"Wait, you and him aren't…?"

"Trevor and I?" she confirmed with a small laugh. "No, no, we're just friends." There was a short, awkward pause, until she smiled and said, "Goodnight, Damon." She shut the door, and Damon crossed the hall and followed suit. He didn't bother to get undressed, just flopped face-first onto the pillow and was instantly asleep.

Her eyes haunted his dreams that night.


	5. Chapter 4

**Title: **Under a Different Moon (4/?)

**Spoilers:** 2.09

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing!

**Author's Notes:** Yay update! I'm sorry I didn't post this yesterday, I was working on a huge project for hours and didn't find time to post it. Here it is, finally :D This chapter and the next will be slightly longer, as I want to get away from canon as quickly as possible now (also it amused me that everyone said last chapter was short even though it was 300 words longer than the first two, lol). Again, by the sixth chapter things will start to diverge. Hope you enjoy(:

Damon couldn't even escape those eyes the next morning; much to his surprise, Rose was already awake when he went downstairs, curled up on one of the living room couches with a book.

"You're up rather early," he commented as he glided past her towards the kitchen.

"I like to watch the sunrise," she explained. "Well, not _watch_ it, exactly. But I like seeing the room get brighter, and the sunlight is always the prettiest color in the mornings. You know what I mean?"

Damon turned towards her. "Not really. But I'll take your word for it."

"We can't all have little daylight rings," she replied curtly, returning to her book.

When he returned from the kitchen, cup of coffee in hand, he asked, "What about Trevor? Still asleep, I guess."

Rose made a small hum of conformation, then added, "He likes to sleep in."

"Stefan, too. Whatcha reading?" he asked, plucking the book neatly from her fingers. "_A Tale of Two Cities_, really? Huh. You like Dickens, then?"

She made a grab for it and missed. "Yes, I do."

"'Look well upon that gentleman, my learned friend there—'" Rose reached again, but Damon lifted it high and continued in a loud, gallant voice, "pointing to him who had tossed the paper over, 'and then look well upon the prisoner. How say you? Are they very like each other?'" He glanced down at her. She returned the look with pleading eyes, and at last he handed her the book.

"Thank you," she said with the faintest hint of annoyance. When he sat down beside her, she asked, "So who is this mysterious person I have to meet today?"

Damon rolled his eyes in an attempt to remain nonchalant. "My brother's girlfriend, Elena."

Rose stared at him, as if searching his face for something. Then, with a slight nod, she turned back to her book. He looked away, then just decided to get up. No other person, not even Elena, made him that uncomfortable, like she could see straight through him.

"Nice name. Elena."

Her words followed him out the door, and he had to shove down his irritation.

—

Damon answered the door with a suave, "Hello, 'Lena," and stood aside to let her through. She gave him a small smile before fixating on Stefan.

"What's this about?" Elena asked, eyes now darting between the two brothers, as Damon shut the door behind her. "You said it was important."

"It is," said Rose as she came around the corner, hair still wet from a recent shower, clearly having overheard their conversation. Once she caught sight of Elena, however, she stopped cold, and the smile vanished from her face. In an instant, she was pinning Elena against the wall by her wrists, eyes surrounded by dark veins and fangs out. She growled, "_You_"—as if there was anyone else she could be addressing.

Damon and Stefan were already there, tugging at her arms (Stefan crying helplessly, "Rose, it's not Katherine, it's not Katherine!") when Trevor appeared. He threw her off of Elena easily, grabbing her by the shoulders and spinning her around.

"Rose," he said, taking her face in his hands and repeating Stefan's words, "that's _not_ Katerina."

She cast a look over her shoulder at Elena as the veins faded from her face. "You have a doppelganger," she breathed, almost too quietly to be heard. Then, louder, she added, "I'm sorry. That wasn't a very good introduction."

"You okay?" Stefan asked Elena. She just nodded, rubbing her arms. Rose looked ready to apologize again, but he interrupted, "This is Rose and Trevor. They know about Klaus."

"And they sure as hell better know what this doppelganger business is about," Damon said, glaring, "because _I've_ never heard it before." Rose looked incredulous, but said nothing as they moved to the living room, the brothers and Elena sitting while Rose and Trevor remained standing.

"Well, first things first, we've never _actually_ met Klaus," started Trevor. Damon opened his mouth, exasperated expression on his face, but Trevor continued, "I'm not sure anyone has. I don't think even his merry band of Originals get their orders directly."

"Not helping," Rose muttered.

Trevor threw her a glare and continued on. "But he's real. He's definitely real."

"He's the oldest vampire in history," Rose added, to quell the questioning looks on their faces. "He's not just an Original, he's _the_ Original. You'd be mad if you weren't afraid of him."

"Wait, who are the Originals?" asked Elena.

"They're the _old_ old vampires, the first few generations. They've been around for millennia. Klaus just happens to be the oldest," Trevor said.

Elena chewed her lip uncomfortably. "So, what about the doppelganger?"

"The doppelganger is the key to breaking the curse."

"Wait," she said. "The sun and moon curse? I thought the moonstone broke it."

"No," replied Rose. "_Sacrifice_ is what breaks the curse. Sacrifice of the Petrova doppelganger."

—

After Elena headed off to school—politely declining a ride from Stefan, much to his disappointment and much to Damon's amusement—Damon found Rose in the same position he'd found her that morning, curled up on the couch with her Dickens.

"Trevor?" he asked.

She flipped a page and responded half-mindedly, "Shower."

Damon wasn't sure how much he liked the fact that they'd already adopted a casual banter, even after knowing each other for only a few hours, but decided against pursuing the thought. He had bigger fish to fry.

"Tell me how to find Klaus."

The remark drew her eyes from the page to his face, accompanied with an incredulous, "Are you _mad_?"

He shrugged and leapt over the back of the couch to stand in front of her. "Probably. So tell me how."

"I don't _know_," she replied, setting her book down. "You don't. Klaus finds _you_."

"Bullshit," he scoffed. "Well, how about this: how did you know so much about _us_?"

She sighed. "A guy in Richmond. His name's Slater. But he's pretty low on the totem pole, and I doubt he'll get you very far. But I do know a few Originals he has contact with."

"Perfect. I'll drive."

"We're waiting for Trevor," she protested as he turned away, "and you're forgetting, not all of us can do sun."

"Then _you_ drive," Damon quipped over his shoulder. "And tell your boyfriend to hurry up."

The book she flung at his back missed. Barely.


	6. Chapter 5

**Title: **Under a Different Moon (5/?)

**Spoilers:** 2.09

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing!

**Author's Notes:** Unfortunately, this chapter follows 2.09 pretty closely, though I did try to make it different. Again, things will be better next chapter; this one is still sort of info-dumpy. And I hope I did okay with the ending on this one. Oh, also: I like Monday updates.

"Craigslist."

"Wait a second," Damon started, slightly incredulous, "you contact the high-and-mighty, super-powerful Originals with _Craigslist_?"

"Yep," Slater replied. He took a sip of his coffee before elaborating. "I respond to an ad that gets sent to someone, that gets sent to someone, that gets sent to someone and finally makes its way to Klaus."

Trevor turned towards Damon. "Why do you want to contact him anyways? Surely not to _kill_ him, right? Because then we'd all be dead."

Damon sighed and fixed Trevor with cool eyes. "Why, do you object to me beheading all your Original buddies?"

"You can't kill an Original," Slater stepped in. "At least, not in any way that's easy."

"Not without pissing off a load of other Originals in the process, and getting us all slaughtered," Rose added, as if trying to drive the point home.

"Bright little ray of sunshine aren't you, Rosebud?" Damon taunted, but she just rolled her eyes. He continued, "What I don't get is this: do the Originals know about day rings?"

"Of course they do," said Trevor immediately. "I used to work for them, I remember."

"Then, _why_ would they want to break the curse?"

Slater gave him an _are-you-dumb_ look and said, "So the werewolves can't break it."

Damon considered this. "Is there a way to stop the curse from being broken at all?"

Rose looked at him incredulously. "Are you thick? Why would you want to do that?"

"Do you want to walk in the sun?" Damon asked, glancing around at the three of them. "Well _I_ can make that happen, if you help us."

There was an uncomfortable silence until, as if on cue, the café's windows shattered.

Needless to say, it caught all of them by surprise. Glass sprayed everywhere but the sun was the most damaging, streaming through and driving Rose, Trevor, and Slater to the ground. Slater was up and running immediately; Trevor sunk into the shade of the table and picked himself up, shrinking back into the shadows. Damon saw him give one swift glance out the window and saw his eyes widen, but when Damon looked he saw no one.

He instead turned his attention to Rose, who hadn't moved at all; having been closest to the window, her burns were the worst. Her wails cut through him and all he could think was a constant mantra of _help her, help her, help her._ So he held Trevor back from the sunlight and shouted, over screams and car alarms, "_I've got her_." Trevor hesitated a few seconds before nodding and backing away.

Damon grabbed Rose's jacket from the back of her chair and covered her with it, then hauled her up. She whimpered; he pulled her closer and, making sure to keep the jacket tight around her, led her through the last of the café's patrons. When they were free of the throng, he swept her legs from under her and picked her up.

Trevor held the car door open when they neared, face anxious. Damon sat Rose down and said placatingly, "You're gonna be okay."

"I know," she replied, wiping tears from her face, refusing to meet his eyes as her burns faded.

"Good," Damon said. "So what the hell was that?"

"I don't know," she replied, looking at him at last, green eyes weary. "But it wasn't Slater, he wouldn't betray us."

Damon turned away for a moment, a sound of exasperation escaping his lips. With renewed curiousity, however, he turned to Trevor. "You saw someone. Who was it?" When he didn't answer, Damon shoved him against the car and asked again—snarled, really, punctuating his words as if trying to hammer in their meaning by force, "Who. Did. You. See."

Trevor shoved back, seemingly effortlessly though it knocked Damon to the ground. "I didn't _see_ anyone."

Damon picked himself up, mouth opening angrily, but Rose yelled, "Would you two cool the testosterone levels and get in the bloody car already?" from the back seat, and the two men resigned themselves to glares.

The ride home was awkward, to say the least, and when they arrived at the boarding house they each got out of the car without a word. Trevor ventured downstairs for a blood bag, Damon into the kitchen to answer a call from Stefan, which left Rose to meander upstairs. Healing from the burns had drained her, and the thing she wanted most at the moment was a nap on her soft bed with its down pillows and smooth sheets.

When she emerged a few hours later, Damon was the only one in the house, sipping whiskey straight from its crystal bottle and staring sullenly into the fire. If he heard her approach, he gave no sign. Only when she took a glass from the table behind him did he inform her, "Elena went to see Katherine today."

"Oh? The bitch is still in town then?"

"Unfortunately," he replied. It seemed to be left hanging, but he didn't elaborate.

Rose decided she might as well speak her mind. "I know how you feel about her. About Elena."

"Really?" Contempt dripped from the word. "Enlighten me."

"You care about her. You want to save her." Rose moved to stand in front of him. "You love her."

He poured her a drink. "Yeah? And where the hell did that ever get me?"

Rose smirked. "Sometimes it's easier to just… not care about anyone." She sat behind him and took a large sip of her drink.

"It worked for me for over a hundred years," Damon said, sighing. "Damn my brother and his overly sympathetic girlfriend."

There was a long silence. Rose finished the last of her drink and stood.

"I said it was easier. I never said it was better."

Something in her words ignited a fire within him—though that might've been the alcohol, kicking in at last—and he sped in front of her, not quite sure what he was going to do but positive he wanted to do _something_. The way she read him like a book pissed him off, intimidated him, and comforted him all at once; easily the strangest array of emotions he'd ever felt.

But he needed to _say_ something because she was looking at him like he was crazy, so he blurted, "I'm just trying to figure you out." Surprisingly, the words were the most truthful he'd spoken in a while.

Her green eyes were blazing. "I guess we're in the same boat then."

He wanted to kiss her then. He wanted to pin her against the wall, the mantelpiece (too close to the fire, perhaps), or anything solid, really. He wanted to kiss her senseless, tangle his fingers in her short, silky hair, learn the taste of her mouth…

So he did.

Just not the mantelpiece. That would be pushing his luck.


	7. Chapter 6

**Title: **Under a Different Moon (6/?)

**Spoilers:** slightly for 2.09 and 2.10

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing!

**Author's Notes:** Okay, I finally fixed this up. I didn't want to fail at my Monday schedule so I wrote it up quickly, but I'm glad everyone liked it anyways. It still seems weird to me (maybe it's how fancy-worded I got... I jump around styles, I'm sorry) and I may fiddle with it in the future. Anyways... those who have not read it before, enjoy, and those who are reading again, thank you!(:

(now with a fancy line to separate my rambling)

* * *

Thus, they fell into this easy, simple sort of routine: friends by day, lovers by night. They fell asleep and woke up in each other's arms but got ready in their own respective rooms; any romance outside of the walls of Damon's bedroom, anything more than their cordial friendship, and everything would crumble at their feet. She battled his longing for Elena and he quelled her restlessness.

They understood each other, but they were only friends. Nothing more.

Well.

—

This cycle continued on for about a week and a half, until one day when Rose woke up alone. To Damon's credit, the blinds were closed and there was even a note, written in his untidy scrawl: _Witch problems. Be back later._ She smirked and laid it aside, grabbing the glass of blood he'd also left for her and downing it. Then, moving into the hallway, she knocked on Trevor's door, as was her morning custom, before going into her own room. Once she was decent looking, she had the whole morning to spend relaxing or reading or talking with Trevor—something they hadn't really done in ages. That is, if she could _find_ him.

However, she gave up easily, believing he had gone to Richmond to check on Slater or something of the sort. The lack of his presence disturbed her, though, being so used to having him by her side. Rose was still not used to _staying_ still.

Thankfully, somewhere around one in the afternoon, Trevor breezed back in, throwing her a small smile.

"Where've you been?" Rose asked, giving him a smile in return.

"Slater's," he replied, in an absent-minded way that didn't suit him at all. "He's okay, just freaked out."

Something in his tone set off alarms in Rose's head; this was not the Trevor she'd known for over five-hundred years. She stood up and asked, bluntly, "What's up?"

Trevor stopped dead mid-step and spun around. "Nothing."

"Oh? You sure you went to see Slater, then?"

He rolled his eyes. "I didn't—no, Rose, I know what you're thinking. I'm not that stupid."

She still wasn't fully convinced, but turned away all the same.

—

It was dark before Damon returned home. From her room, Rose heard his and Stefan's cars pull into the driveway, gravel crunching. Their voices reached her (something about a man named Luka and Elena's friend Bonnie) and the front door opened, then shut. She didn't hear them come upstairs because her ears were suddenly fixed on Trevor's room, where she could hear him presumably talking to himself.

Pity she knew him so well.

"No… they wouldn't… please, just—" Trevor nearly dropped the phone as Rose entered.

"What the hell are you doing?" she hissed, rushing over and taking the phone from him. "Damon and Stefan just got here, what if they heard you?"

"Ah, hello, Rosemarie," said the voice on the other line.

She raised the cell phone to her ear delicately, as if it would explode, and swallowed once. "Elijah."

"My dear. You have considered my ideas, yes?"

Rose resisted the great urge to fling the phone across the room. "The Salvatores would never risk something like that. They will never sacrifice—"

Suddenly— _of course_— Damon entered the room, looking livid, and the last word fell unbidden from her lips: "Elena."

Damon didn't even say anything; he simply walked up and wrenched the phone from her hand. Raising it to his own ear, he asked in a low voice, "Who the hell is this, and what do you want with Elena?" When he received no reply, he tossed the phone angrily onto the dresser and spun to face Rose. Neither of them spoke up until she couldn't bear it.

"How much did you hear?"

"Enough." Then, raising his voice, he called for Stefan, who promptly rushed into the room.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

"If you don't mind, brother," Damon said, eyes still locked on Rose, "please escort our guests outside." When Stefan hesitated, Damon said, louder, "_Now_, Stefan, before I do something violent."

"This isn't what it looks like, Damon," Rose pleaded. But he had seen what he wanted to see, and the look in his eyes told her that no amount of reasoning would get her out of this.

"I trusted you," he said as Stefan and Trevor left, "but I guess I was wrong."

"Damon—"

"Out. Get out."

—

Trevor was waiting for her, as expected.

"You're lucky I covered your ass back there," she said, walking away from him, unable to look at his face.

_Of course something like this would happen. We always end up way over our heads but this, _this_..._

"Rose—" he started.

She spun around angrily and cut him off. "We had a home, Trevor. An actual, proper _home_. I can't believe you would do something so stupid as contact Elijah when you knew, you _knew_ it wouldn't work, that the Salvatores would never accept help from an Original. Now they think we betrayed them, and I—" She paused to wipe the tears that had spilled from her eyes. "I just wanted to stop _running_."

Trevor looked genuinely upset. "I'm sorry, Rose. I'll make this right, I promise." She shook her head. There was a long pause until Trevor tried again: "We could at least go and see Elijah. Even if we can't be there directly, we can help Elena from a distance."

_Maybe we can set this right. Maybe._

Rose hesitated but nodded, the tiniest of smiles gracing her face. Then, she started walking away.

"Hold on, where are you going?"

She didn't answer his question directly; instead, calling over her shoulder, she replied, "Unless you want to break into their garage for our car, I suggest you start walking."

—

Inside the boarding house, Damon Salvatore poured himself another drink and tried not to regret his decision.

_But what else was he supposed to do?_


	8. Chapter 7

**Title:** Under a Different Moon (7/?)

**Spoilers:** 2.11

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

**Author's Notes:** Alright, here's chapter 7! It's a tad shorter than normal, I apologize, but hopefully the ending makes up for it! I'm posting early today because I have a large paper due tomorrow and I would otherwise forget. I've also noticed that I don't have a set amount of chapters yet. I had seventeen chapters planned (and it wasn't even done) but since the beginning I've been crunching some ideas into one chapter, so my number is all over the place, and I'm not quite sure how I want it to end up (though I'm going to keep the Sun & Moon Curse, fair warning). But I've been ranting long enough, enjoy the chapter!

* * *

She was sitting in a diner like a strange repeat of her first day in Mystic Falls, nursing a cup of tea (no book; she'd left it at the boarding house) and fiddling with her phone, waiting for a reply from Trevor. Thankfully, her phone vibrated shortly after her second cup, and she checked it eagerly.

_Elijah will meet us later tonight, but we'll have to walk back towards Mystic Falls_.

She groaned. _ I'm tired of walking_.

_Me too_, came his response, and she just smiled. At least Elijah _would_ see them. That much she should be grateful for. But as she stared into the depths of her tea, she just wished everything would go back to normal. Whatever normal was.

Night took forever to fall.

—

He had too much shit to deal with—Luka, Tyler, this new werewolf bitch, Elena (top of the list, as usual)—but he couldn't get Rose's face out of his mind. The image of her standing there, pleading and guilty, seemed burned into the inside of his eyelids. He shook it loose, however, as said werewolf bitch came into the Grill.

Ric looked dubious when Damon waved the packet of wolfsbane under his nose, but went with the plan anyways. _Someone_ needed to get her off the track, after all. It would be better for everyone if Mason Lockwood stayed rotting in his truck.

—

"Full moon," Trevor observed, pointing.

Rose sighed, irritated at everything (especially that they hadn't been able to steal a car). "Hopefully no werewolves will come out to play tonight." Trevor smirked but didn't respond. After a while, she spoke up again: "Well, with a town like Mystic Falls, I guess you never know."

Trevor laughed out loud, a short bark. "Of course. How does a small town in rural Virginia attract all the supernaturals, anyways?"

She laughed with him, but her tone was wistful as she said, "Elena probably. Everyone is attracted to her doppelganger-ness."

He shot her a side glance, the laugh now faded to a smile. Hers faded completely and she glanced towards the sky, taking in the full moon illuminating the never-ending stretch of road in front of them. He stretched out an arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer, and she smiled into him, breathing in his familiar scent.

—

Everything had been going smoothly until Jules had gotten fed up, slamming her glass on the table and saying with a voice full of venom, "You fool."

Damon drew away from her, recognizing the loss as it came. He shot Ric a look across the room and responded, equally venomous, "Why do you want Mason Lockwood?"

"He's my friend," she shot back.

"I'm sorry to hear that. You aren't going to find him. You should really skip town."

"Are you _threatening_ me? On a full moon?"

He glared at her. "I'm not afraid of you, if that's what you're getting at."

"Tonight is _not_ the night to pick a fight with me, vampire," Jules said, standing up. "Better watch your back."

With that ominous statement, she left, throwing him a glare over her shoulder. Alaric came over, an exasperated expression on his face.

"What the hell was that?" he asked.

"It didn't work, that's what," Damon snapped. "Now, if you don't mind. I'm going to go home and lock my doors."

—

The longer the night wore on the twitchier Rose became. When a wolf howled somewhere in the distance, she dug her fingers into Trevor's arm so hard that her fingernails left half-moons, though they quickly healed over.

"So, werewolves?" he asked her jokingly.

She glared at him and moved away. "Shut up."

He simply smirked in answer.

They continued in this way until the wolf's howl sounded again; Trevor drew Rose closer, worry falling like a shadow across his face. It seemed to be nearer now, but wolf or werewolf, they couldn't be sure.

That is, until there was one right in front of them.

There was something, maybe the way it perched on the road as if it expected them there, maybe the depth in its eyes, but something was just so _human_ about it. There was no doubt in the world that it was a werewolf, and there was no doubt in the world that it was waiting for them. The two vampires stopped cold, eyes locked on the werewolf, and did nothing until a low growl started in the wolf's throat.

Rose's hand beat a frantic pattern against Trevor's arm. "Run. _Run_."

They ran.

Vampire speed was of no use to them here, for the wolf was as fast as they were. They ran back the way they came, then they were dashing through the woods on the side of the road, crashing through the underbrush. Rose called out Trevor's name once, twice, and received no answer. Her feet hit pavement, and she called again.

"Rose, behind you!" came the reply, and she found Trevor's startled face before she was knocked to the ground.

The wolf was everything, everywhere, invading all her senses. She tried to shove it off but suddenly there was only air; Trevor had knocked it away with a well placed kick.

They took off in a sprint again—_running, always running_—Rose shouting breathlessly and tugging Trevor along behind her, determined not to lose him again. The wolf veered in front of them, forcing them to constantly change direction until there was nowhere else to run. Staring down the werewolf, she saw her death coming hard and fast, as it leapt and—

She was falling.

—

It was just past midnight when the doorbell rang, much to Damon's irritation. Sleep had been eluding him, but, goddamn, that was no reason for people to be calling.

He opened the door with an irritated sigh, fully planning to give whoever it was a strict telling-off. But as his eyes flicked upwards, the words died in his mouth. Two people he'd never thought he'd see again. Especially not when one of them was clearly injured, slumping against the other, unconscious.

"We need your help."


	9. Chapter 8

**Title:** Under a Different Moon (8/?)

**Spoilers:** slightly for 2.11 and 2.12

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

**Author's Notes:** Whooo, cutting it close! But it isn't Tuesday yet! Hope I got you guys good with the last chapter(; This chapter is a little boring but I hope I did okay with the ending; I've been starved for ideas lately and I've been going through some other life issues. Still, I hope you like this chapter!

* * *

Stefan woke up to the sound of the doorbell ringing loudly in the early hours of the morning. It had to be sometime past midnight, he thought as he stumbled downstairs. He came within sight of the door only to find that his brother had beaten him to it.

He stopped the door with a hand as Damon tried to close it. "Don't," he said. "Let them in." Damon shot him a look. Well, hell, maybe he _was _too sympathetic. But he wouldn't turn away anyone in need of help, especially not Rose and Trevor, who had helped them immensely the past few weeks.

"What happened?" Stefan asked as the two of them passed. Damon shut the door behind them, a sour look on his face.

Rose laid Trevor on the couch, removing his hand where it was clasped on her arm. "We were attacked," she explained, voice shaky, "by a werewolf. And Trevor, he... he took a bite for me. He was okay for a while, but he collapsed and I brought him here."

Damon stayed in the shadowy recesses of the house, but Stefan edged closer, examining the festering bite mark on Trevor's arm where his sweatshirt sleeve was pulled up.

Rose watched him anxiously. "I'm sorry for all this. We... I have some explaining to do. But we never meant any of it; we were never going to sacrifice Elena. I hope you know that."

Stefan met her eyes and, seeing the sincerity in them, nodded.

"Well," Damon said with an air of irritation, breaking the silence, "this has all been _very_ exciting, but I'm going back to bed. 'Night."

Stefan caught his arm as he was going up the stairs.

"_What_, brother?"

"You honestly don't mind that someone you care about just came here with her half-dead friend, and that she's clearly upset? You aren't going to talk to her or let her apologize?"

Damon rolled his eyes. "Sleeping together for one week doesn't equal caring. Now let go of me."

He made to move away, but Stefan held him back. "You're seriously going to hold a grudge because of a misunderstanding?"

Damon just rolled his eyes again and pulled his arm away, continuing upstairs and leaving Stefan in the dark.

—

Trevor hadn't even stirred by morning.

Rose woke up later than usual to the sound of movement upstairs, and having slept terribly. She brushed her hair out of her eyes wearily, then meandered upstairs in hopes of a shower and clean clothes.

And ran directly into Damon.

She made to apologize, but he brushed past her without a word, and her mouth snapped shut. But she wouldn't (couldn't) let it go; she spun around to face his retreating back and said, heat coloring her voice, "So that's it?"

He stopped dead—no pun intended—and turned. "What?"

"You know," she said pointedly, "you can't be angry with me if you don't let me apologize."

"Maybe Stefan trusts you, but I don't," he shot back.

"And here you are, jumping to conclusions."

He sped in front of her, getting in her personal space in a way he knew she hated. "Explain, then."

She didn't let him faze her. "I will. Once Stefan is up, and once Elena gets here."

Damon opened his mouth, but after some consideration he shut it with a look of disgust and walked away. Rose smirked, head ducked, as his feet pounded angrily down the stairs.

Her shower welcomed her with open arms as she scrubbed away the memories of yesterday.

—

Trevor was still lying as if dead when Elena arrived, though Rose noted with relief that his chest was still moving. Elena showed some surprise when Rose answered the door, but nodded and came in anyways, giving Rose the smallest of smiles as she passed.

Once everyone was seated, Rose started, staring at Stefan; she couldn't bear to see Damon's face, not now. "Trevor and I were in contact with Elijah. He's an Original. But—" she stopped at the skeptical looks on their faces and sighed. "But he's _against _Klaus. He wants to _help _Elena, not sacrifice her. Going behind your backs was wrong, I know, but we didn't think you'd like Elijah's plan; it takes a lot of risks."

She paused and let them mull it over. "After we left here, we were going to go back and talk to Elijah. Try to help you from a distance. Because, like it or not," she shared a look with each of them, lingering on Elena, "you need all the help you can get."

"We can't trust an Original," Damon said with an air of finality.

"No, Damon," Stefan cut in, pulling his brother down as he tried to stand. "Rose is right. We can't fight Klaus on our own."

"Yeah, but an _Original_? No way. We'll find something else."

"Well, you don't have a lot of options," Rose said heatedly. "Trevor and I aren't indestructible. We can't fight an Original for long, especially not one as powerful as Klaus."

Stefan passed a hand over his eyes. Damon opened his mouth angrily, but his brother interrupted, "Let's focus on the task at hand for now; what are we going to do with Trevor?"

Rose shrugged. "I don't know the effects of a werewolf bite. I don't even know who bit him; I never met a werewolf before."

Damon cleared his throat.

"What?"

"I... might have an idea." He looked around at all their anxious faces, fixed on his. "Jules, Mason's friend. She was in the Grill last night and, well, I might've pissed her off."

Rose's mouth gaped open and she lowered her head, staring fixedly at the carpet, trying to process the information.

"We should go talk to her," Stefan said for her, with an anxious look in her direction, "as for Trevor... I mean, we could put him in the basement, or—"

Stefan was interrupted as Trevor suddenly opened his eyes and sat up.

Rose was at his side immediately. "Are you okay? How do you feel?"

"Like shit," he said, rubbing his eyes, unable to focus properly. He blinked rapidly and glanced up.

Rose knew what was going to happen a second before it did, saw the veins blossom unconsciously as Trevor's eyes found the familiar face, staring at it until he ground out the dreaded, dreaded name, "_Katerina_."

She lunged for him as he dove for Elena.


	10. Chapter 9

**Title: **Under a Different Moon (9/?)

**Spoilers: **none really, 2.11 and 2.12 slightly, very slightly

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing!

**Author's Notes: **Not much to say here, except I really have to kick the habit of writing chapters in English class(; I still don't know how long this is going to be, though I'll really try not to drag it on, but we'll cross that bridge when we get there. For now here's chapter 9. Enjoy!

* * *

Rose was still sitting resolutely opposite the cell door in the basement when Damon went looking.

"I'm going out to find the werewolf bitch," he informed her. When she did nothing but nod, once, he continued, "You okay holding down the fort?"

"Yes, Damon. I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself." Her words, though harsh, lacked any true bite. She was upset (at him? Probably). But all he did was throw her one last concerned look before heading up the stairs, repeating a mantra of _I don't care, I don't care, I don't care_.

He wondered when he'd start believing it.

—

She had taken to dozing against the cold metal door, eyes drooping to the sound of Trevor's breathing within, when a phone rang upstairs. She figured someone else would grab it until she remembered no one else was home. And then she realized it was her own phone ringing.

"Rose?" asked the caller when Rose raced upstairs to grab it.

"Yes?" she answered hesitantly, not having recognized the number on the screen. "...who is this?"

"Oh, sorry. This is Bonnie, Elena's friend. Damon gave me your number."

Rose nodded; she knew the name now. "Right. The witch."

"Yep," came Bonnie's voice on the other end, a little strained. There was an awkward pause before she continued, "I... just wanted to let you know that I'm looking. For a cure to the werewolf bite. I've got all sorts of books here, I'm sure there's something in one of them."

"Thank you," Rose replied. She meant it.

"Yeah. I'll call you if I find anything, okay?"

She nodded before she remembered Bonnie couldn't see her. "Yes. Thank you again, really."

After she hung up, the minutes seemed to tick by endlessly. She returned to the basement, phone and book in hand, and tried in vain to read. Soon, however, the vervain in Trevor's system started to wear off, and he began to call out. She cried as he called her name, voice breaking, and cried even harder when he started calling for others—first Damon and Stefan, even Elena. Then it turned to Katerina and Lexi (which then turned to Alexandra) and even so far back as his wife, Cecilia, and his daughter Elizabeth, who had died in the plague so many years ago. And she cried as the names turned to screams and she could do nothing to comfort him. She hated, _loathed_being so useless. And when she could no longer take it, she grabbed her phone and went upstairs, as far away from the basement as she could, though Trevor's cries still followed her; she made a conscious effort to block them out, and dialed Damon's number.

"What is it?"

She tried to calm herself and was amazed at how steady her voice came out. "Please tell me you found Jules."

"Just talked to her. She doesn't know a cure and, true to her nature, she's being a bitch about it."

"Trevor's getting worse. I—" She was interrupted by a beep from her phone. "Hold on, I have another call."

"Rose? It's Bonnie. I think I found something."

—

Bonnie came in and immediately spread her grimoire on the table in the living room, flipping to a page in the very back and pointing to a tiny paragraph squeezed on the bottom of the page.

"That little thing is going to cure a werewolf bite?" Damon asked, squinting at the miniscule print.

"Yes," Bonnie replied, glaring at him.

"What do we need?" Rose asked her.

Her face relaxed slightly as she glanced down at the page, though as she read, her expression became more and more troubled. "It needs a lot of herbs... plus vervain and wolfsbane, but we know how to get those... and something called essence of moonstone." She flipped suddenly to another marked page, and pointed again. "We'll need the moonstone to make the essence, but it doesn't need as many things; vervain, vampire blood, some other herbs and things that shouldn't be too hard to get."

Rose nodded. "Okay, what next?"

"Well," Bonnie started anxiously, "There's a problem."

(Damon groaned.)

"First off, the essence takes twenty-four hours to brew, with constant stirring."

Rose considered it and nodded again. "That shouldn't be too hard. What else?"

"The... the main potion, it takes a full two weeks to make. And it needs to be administered at midnight on a new moon."

The silence hung heavy in the air. Rose pressed a shaking hand to her eyes and exhaled slowly.

"Well, then," Damon said, "Trevor just has to last two weeks and one day."

"_Just_," Rose exclaimed with a shaky little laugh.

Damon couldn't find the words to answer so Bonnie just nodded and closed her grimoire. "I can get the ingredients tonight and we'll start the essence tomorrow, if that's okay. We just need to figure out how to get the moonstone from the tomb."

Rose, too, nodded. When she spoke, her voice was steadier. "Good. I want this over with as quickly as possible."

And thus Bonnie took her leave, until Rose caught up with her at the door and said, "Thank you. Just… thank you. You didn't have to do this."

"Yes, I did. You and Trevor are protecting Elena and we need all the people we can get," Bonnie replied with a smile.

"Thank you," Rose repeated, ducking her head, unsure of what to say. Bonnie just smiled again and opened the door, and this time Rose let her leave.

Damon found her slumped against the door, eyes closed, looking for all the world as if she was barely keeping herself together.

"You okay?"

"No," she replied, though she opened her eyes and wiped all the emotion from her face, like he himself had done many times. "But we'll get through this. We have to." He wasn't sure if 'we' meant 'me and Trevor' or something else entirely. Then, she continued, "You know, I should be pissed at you. You're the whole reason my friend is dying in your basement."

Damon rolled his eyes, brushing it off. "You're so melodramatic. Lighten up, we'll fix this."

The glare she gave him let him know that his attempt at humor had failed, but he brushed that off too.

—

It was a few hours and a few texts from Bonnie later (letting them know that she had all the ingredients save the moonstone) when they heard the crash downstairs.

Rose, who had been upstairs trying to grab a few hours of sleep, raced into the living room and asked, "What the hell was that?"

Damon stood, glass of whiskey in hand, and replied, "I don't know."

Rose took off towards the basement door, Damon not far behind her. He heard her sharp intake of breath before he saw the destruction—the cell door, completely torn off its hinges. She pushed past him and scrambled upstairs just as the front door slammed. Before she could utter the string of curses that looked ready to fall from her lips, Damon was pulling on his jacket.

"Come on, Rosebud. Looks like me and you are going vampire hunting."


	11. Chapter 10

**Title:** Under a Different Moon (10/?)

**Spoilers:** 2.12

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

**Author's Notes:** Finally fixed it up a bit! Sorry about that, I really need to start writing chapters sometime before ten o'clock Monday night. Anyways, not much has changed. Hope you enjoy!

* * *

The closer they got into town, the more withdrawn Rose became. By the time they reached downtown, her face was completely devoid of emotion. It so reminded Damon of himself it was almost scary.

That is, until she smiled at the obvious festivities going on. "What _is_ it with your town and parties?" The smile still didn't reach her eyes, but hell.

Damon groaned, both at the ridiculousness of 'his' town and because he didn't get why he cared so much about whether Rose was smiling or not—goddamn. But he said anyways, for clarification, "I have no idea."

This was when his phone rang, and he picked it up gratefully.

Rose watched him carefully as he talked with Liz. It was the usual, of course: mad, homicidal vampire on the loose, killing people at the town's latest festival. _Who you gonna call?_ Damon Salvatore, of course.

When he informed Liz that he was bringing along a friend, her voice instantly skyrocketed into freaked-out mode. And of course, as usual, he calmed her down with a few well-chosen words. _Silly humans_. At least Rose was on the vampire hunting bandwagon now.

They met Elena on the fringe of the crowd; her eyebrows were crinkled in confusion and fear as she came over to them and immediately asked, "What's wrong, what happened?"

"Trevor got loose," he informed her, scanning the throng of people for any sign of disturbance. "Don't worry though. We're on it."

Her eyes flicked from Rose to him and back. "Anything I can do to help?"

"No," Rose replied. "I don't want you getting involved with this, Elena; Trevor's stronger than anything you've dealt with before. Especially when he's like this." Elena looked like she was about to retort when Rose interrupted, "Is that..." Pause. Then, "I think I hear something." And then, without warning, she sped off.

Damon offered Elena a half-assed smile and an eye roll before following.

—

The scent of blood hit Rose like a wave, and as soon as she arrived in the back lot—the general direction of the screams she'd heard—she knew why: it was everywhere. There couldn't be more than three bodies lying on the pavement, one of them probably Trevor's, but the smell of it was overwhelming. She felt her fangs pushing through and in a panic she willed them away.

The sudden sound of heavy breathing startled her, and she whipped around, blood momentarily forgotten. _Trevor_. So, three people dead, then. Not… not so bad.

"Trevor, it's me," she said urgently. "It's Rose… _look at me_, it's Rose!"

He took her arms and backed her against a lone car, eyes dark and face spiderwebbed with veins, not yet recognizing that she was predator, not prey (friend, not foe). At the sound of Damon arriving, though, he turned to the weaker vampire.

"No, you don't," Rose muttered as she grabbed the back of his jacket and threw him to the ground. In a second, however, he was back up, wrestling wildly with her as they fought for dominance. She lunged for his arms and missed as he dodged her—damn, she'd always forgotten how he was a few years older. Finally, however, she had him pinned by the shoulders on the cold brick wall of some unknown building, and already she could feel the sobs bubbling up as he continued to struggle.

"Trevor, it's Rose," she said loudly. "_It's me_." And after many long, long seconds, the veins finally disappeared.

"Rosie?" Trevor asked quietly, so fearfully. He took in the three bodies lying motionless on the pavement behind her, nearly out of sight in the darkness. "Oh god, I didn't... I never wanted to..."

She pressed her hand to his cheek. "I know."

His bottom lip began to tremble, just the slightest bit, and he added tearfully, "I want to go home."

"I know," she repeated, struggling to keep her own tears down. And then she caught him as the pain overtook him again, driving him to his knees. "You're going to be okay," she promised him, pulling him up and letting him lean against her.

"I'm calling Liz; she can get the bodies," Damon said, pulling out his phone. Rose just nodded and continued moving, in the shortest route, to Damon's car.

Damon heaved a weary sigh. "Mission accomplished. Three humans and one vampire dead. I'll take care of _that_ body if you'll get the humans."

—

She didn't know how much more of this she could take.

"Rose," Trevor had asked her on the long way home, as he sat curled in her lap in the back seat, "I'm going to die, aren't I?"

"No," she had replied, trying to inject as much confidence into her voice as she could. "We're working on a cure. Just a few more days, I promise." More like weeks, and with no moonstone... She shared a significant look with Damon in the rearview mirror, but if Trevor noticed, he said nothing.

Stefan was off finding someone for Elena and everyone else was at the festival, and so the only thing they could think of to do was inject Trevor with as much vervain as possible and lock him in his room, counting on the dawn to confine him to the house.

—

Wearily, reluctantly, Rose relinquished her hold on his hand as the sun started to rise, still trying desperately to hold herself together.

"You should get some sleep."

Damon, unexpectedly, was waiting outside Trevor's room when she left it, looking tired himself.

She wasted no time informing him of this. "Right back at you."

"I'm being serious, Rosie." He took her face gently in his hands and smoothed his thumbs over the dark circles beneath her eyes. "Go. Now."

"Only two people are allowed to call me Rosie. One of them is dead, and the other is dying," she retorted. But he was right. So she went.

It would be a long two weeks.


	12. Chapter 11

**Title:** Under a Different Moon (11/?)

**Spoilers:** 2x11, 2x12

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

**A/N:** Sorry, this is a day late. Well, actually, it's more like two months late, and I'm really, really sorry. But school and finals and vacation got the better of me and I could barely find time to write anything. At last, here is chapter 11. Enjoy(:

**A/N 2:** Me again. I changed the summary slightly, just letting you know. Carry on.

* * *

Everything was going downhill.

Every day, there was a new argument on how to get the moonstone from the tomb and the making of the cure was pushed back yet again. Every day, someone was on Trevor duty with Rose, and it became a constant struggle to keep him inside the house when he was delirious or on a murderous rampage. Every day, Rose drew more into herself, Damon drank a little more, and Stefan went to bed earlier and earlier. The rising problems with werewolves—the never ending threats, the kidnapping of Caroline, and Trevor's bite—and the looming Sacrifice was setting everyone on edge.

It was a Tuesday when Rose decided to take matters into her own hands.

The house was almost empty, and it was late. Stefan was at Elena's and Damon was upstairs with Caroline, keeping watch over Trevor to spare Rose another sleepless night. Rose, however, couldn't sleep anyways. She tossed and turned and, somehow, somewhere in her endlessly spinning head, she came up with a plan to get the moonstone. It was rash and shoddy at best, but it was her last hope.

In seconds, she was tiptoeing downstairs, going over her poorly constructed plan in her head. She glided down to the basement and grabbed all the blood bags she could carry; back upstairs, she found a bag to carry them in. Then, grabbing her car keys, she slid quickly and quietly out the door and into the night.

A strange sense of calm stole over her as she sped away from the boarding house with only to rumble of the engine to keep her company. She would get that moonstone if it killed her… she would make the cure and save Trevor if it was the last thing she would ever do.

The tomb, and therefore Katherine, was easy enough to find; she was becoming used to the layout of Mystic Falls by now. _How strange, I've never really gotten to know a place before_, she thought as she pulled off to the side of the road. It was a beautiful, clear night, but the only thing Rose could think about was the heavy weight of the blood bags in her hand and the stone that would hopefully replace it. She descended the slippery steps with newfound confidence.

"Katerina?" came her quiet call into the depths of the tomb, but the only sound was that of the blood bags thudding to the ground as she set them down. She waited a few seconds more.

Then, at last, came the reply: "I know that voice." And Katherine stumbled into the light of the waning moon, certainly looking worse for the wear; even when she spoke, her voice lacked its usual bite. "What are you doing here, Rose?"

She didn't answer directly. Instead, she reached down, opened a blood bag, and took one long, tantalizing sip. Katherine's eyes grew wide and she stumbled forward a bit more, looking ravenous.

"I need your help," Rose said eventually.

Katherine smirked, but her eyes hungrily followed the blood bag as it was set on the ground. "What could the great Rosemarie possibly want from _me_?"

"The moonstone."

"_Right_," she drawled sarcastically, rolling her eyes. "I'm not stupid. I'm not giving away my only bargaining chip."

"No, you're not stupid," Rose agreed, "and I don't doubt that you'll get out of this tomb eventually—"

"How flattering, Rosemarie."

Here, however, Rose took a menacing step forward, and all sweetness vanished from her voice. "But the second you _do_ get out, I swear the first thing I will do is give you a slow, painful death. I'm not playing around, Katerina. I need that moonstone."

Katherine just smirked again. "Tsk, tsk, Rose. Two wrongs don't make a right."

"Unfortunately for _you_," Rose started, voice low, "you've wronged Trevor and I too many times. We just spent the past five hundred years running from Klaus because of you. And now Trevor is dying and I need that moonstone, so give it to me before I come in there and get it myself."

"Come in all you like," Katherine countered. "But you won't get out and you won't get the moonstone."

"Trevor is _dying_, Katherine, and the moonstone is the only thing that will save him. Have you no heart at all?"

"Nope," she replied, and then she turned around and sauntered away.

"Damnit, Katerina!" Rose cried out in frustration, kicking at the bag of blood bags angrily. They scattered across the floor and some even went skidding past the entrance to the tomb, but Katherine did not come back out and after a while, Rose gave up hoping.

—

She didn't bother being quiet when she got back to the boarding house. Damon, of course, had rushed downstairs to see who was coming in at nearly two in the morning, but, catching sight of her defeated expression, all he asked was, "What the hell happened?"

Rose pressed her fingers to the bridge of her nose as if it would hold back the tears that threatened to fall. Then, in a small, broken voice, she said, "I tried."

Damon tried to catch her arm as she pushed past him, but she didn't let him. In a blur, she ran up the stairs and into the solitude of her room, shutting the door and sinking against it to the floor. At last, she let the tears go, and they fell down her face in a steady, silent stream for what seemed to be an endless amount of time.

Soon, however, she noticed that the normally quiet house was filled with the sounds of restless activity: doors slamming, raised voices. Then, Damon was hammering on her door, yelling urgently, "Rosebud, open up."

She wiped the tears from her face, stood, and did as he asked.

"Trevor's escaped again," he said without prompt, as an anxious Caroline appeared over his shoulder. Rose felt her heart sink to the depths of her stomach, but she agreed to go with them.

When they weren't looking, she passed a weary hand over her eyes and let it linger, as if her fingers could block out the world.

It would be another long night.


End file.
